Secret Heart

by Amity Lassiter

  "I would have thought you'd have been home sooner after that wreck. I heard that bull sure messed you up good. And you haven't been to the rodeo since, have you? Buckle money must be drying up."

  In one fell swoop, Rhonda had already talked more to Nate about his wreck than Layla had in the whole time they'd spent together. She glanced up only to see Nate's jaw tighten almost imperceptibly, and his shoulders shift. If she hadn't known that stance inside and out from her own use of it, she never would have guessed it as defensive. But good manners won out.

  "Well, it sure wasn't pretty." He smiled, and Layla knew it was as forced as her own. "But I figured it was time to come home anyhow. And it put me in the right place at the right time to help your daughter." He paused, glancing at Layla and the smile softened a little.

  "Well, I always said you Montgomery boys were raised good."

  "Nan did an excellent job if I do say so myself," Nate agreed.

  Any other time, she'd have wished he'd stay, but now she wished he'd leave. For his own safety as much as any other reason. Every second longer he spent standing on her porch was another second her mother had to detect familiarity, compare the shade of Mason's eyes to his; to figure out the secret she'd spent the last eighteen months hiding from her. But more, for her to hurt him with her seemingly-innocuous comments about his bull riding career.

  "Well, I don't wanna keep you, Nate. Thanks again for seeing me home," she prompted. She was relieved when he nodded.

  "I'll call you tomorrow, Layla."

  She would have killed for a kiss or a hug—any kind of touch as a gentle reminder there was good to look forward to, but definitely not in front of her mother, and he must have sensed it, because he tucked his hands in his pockets and backed away. He paused at the bottom of the steps, glancing back at her and she offered him a reassuring smile, even though she didn't feel it. One-on-one with her mother in the lobby of Dr. Fields' office was one thing; alone on her porch with her mother was an entirely different thing. She wasted time watching him climb into his truck and pull out, and he honked his horn once as he drove away. She lifted her hand and waved, steeling herself for what was to come.

  "Well, Nate Montgomery," her mother said behind her. Layla turned to see Mason reaching his arms out for his mother and Rhonda surrendered him almost immediately. Layla took him, cradling him against her chest as she often did when she was feeling stressed or lonely and his hot little body curled into her right away. "He's a nice catch, Lala."

  Cringing at the nickname from her youth, Layla shook her head. "It's nothing like that, mom. He's just helping me out. You wanna come in for a minute?" She hoped her mother picked up the tiny extra inflection on the word 'minute', but imagined she'd be as obtuse about it as everything else in her life. Still, inviting her in was the polite thing to do, and there was still a deep-rooted part of Layla that wished for a normal relationship with her family—especially her mother.

  "Oh, I've been here a while already." Rhonda glanced at her car, then back at her daughter with her lips pressed together, trying to hide a smile. "You know, men don't just help women out unless there's some motive, sweetie. What does he want?"

  All the blood rushed to Layla's face as she considered her mother's question. She wanted to answer with outrage, but that had never been the most effective way to deal with Rhonda. She pushed another smile onto her face—story of my life—and let out a slow breath.

  "Just what he said. To be nice. Those sorts of people still exist. Around here, anyway. People don't always have an ulterior motive, mom." Unlike you.

  "All right, let me give that sweet face a little kiss. Bingo is tonight." Rhonda reached out for Mason and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I'd like to do this again sometime."

  "Sure, just let me know ahead of time," Layla said, relief rushing through her as her mother awkwardly slung an arm around her shoulder to give her a sideways half-hug, and then started down the steps, turning to wave at Mason.

  "Bye sweetie."

  "Bye mom."

  She stood on the porch with her cooing child cradled against her chest for a long moment after her mother left, thankful to be alone again.

  —TWENTY-ONE—

  "Are you sure your brother doesn't mind?"

  "It's a little late for that," Nate said with a chuckle and shook his head at Layla, who was standing across the aisle of Banks' barn, holding the reins of a tall bay mare. When her expression didn't change, he tipped his head down. "And yes, I'm sure he doesn't mind."

  "Where is he, anyway?" she asked, glancing behind her.

  "Patrol. Will you calm down? You're going to spook the horses."

  "I just…you know, people talk enough…"

  "Layla, my brother is the last person to fuel the rumor mill about you and me. You're not getting out of this. I promise you'll like it."

  She made like she was going to protest, but she didn't produce any words, so he charged ahead, leading the gelding he'd saddled up outside. Similar to the setup at the Baylor ranch, Banks had a big rectangular uncovered riding pen for working cattle, and a smaller, more intimate round pen closer to the barn. It was useful for first rides, timid riders, and quarantined horses, and judging by the way she clutched the reins as she led her horse toward it, Layla fell into the second category pretty firmly.

  "Are you afraid?" he finally asked when they reached the pen. Layla's throat bobbed as she swallowed, then she nodded. He hadn't realized it at first, but when he'd suggested they go for a ride and the color drained from her face, it became clear this was another one of those regular parts of his teenage life she hadn't taken part in. He reached out to touch her cheek lightly. "You'll be fine, sweetheart. Sassy and I will take care of you."

  Sassy was one of Banks' most prolific broodmares, and she'd normally have a foal at side this time of year, but his brother had given her a season off, and instead she'd been used in Noah and Emma's lesson program. She was quiet and slow moving, and so wide it was almost impossible to fall off. Perfect for Layla.

  "And if you're not comfortable in the round pen today, we won't go into the woods. Easy as that."

  Her face changed, some of that stubborn pride that amused him so much lighting her eyes and tipping her chin up.

  "Wanna give it a shot?" he prompted.

  "Okay," she said, fixing Sassy in her sights with a determined expression. "Hard to believe I grew up in this town and don't really know how to ride, right?"

  Nate shrugged, tied his horse to the round pen rail on the outside, and then held the gate open for Layla to lead Sassy in.

  "Not that unbelievable." Not with the kind of selfish parents she had, but he kept those thoughts to himself. "Besides, never too old to start."

  She shot him a rueful look.

  "I'm not old."

  She was rounding pretty close to thirty, same as he was. Most days he didn't feel old, but anytime his body didn't act the way he expected it to, he felt like he was a hundred.

  "I didn't say you were old," he said with a laugh. "Get on the horse."

  He crossed to the off-side and put his hand into the stirrup, pushing his weight down. Sassy was tall and it didn't matter how much a new rider weighed, they could often pull the saddle all the way down around a horse's belly on their first mounting attempt. It was about how you moved your weight around, not the number on the scale.

  "Okay, so left foot in, hand on the horn and the cantle, right here." He paused to tap the back ridge of the saddle seat. "Give yourself a couple bounces and then just come straight up over the saddle, don't drag it down into you."

  She made eye contact with him over the leather seat and then nodded, her mouth set in a firm line of determination. Her hands went where he directed, and then she bounced once and, with barely any drag on the saddle, she had swung into it, her thigh inches from his face. Wrapping his fingers around her calf lightly, he directed her right toe into the stirrup he'd been holding.

  "Like a natural, I'm impressed."

&n
bsp; She drew in a breath as he handed her the reins and showed her how to hold a loop in each hand, crossed over the horse's neck. "Yeah, we'll see."

  "Let out that breath. Leave your feelings on the ground, 'cause otherwise the horse will pick it up and then you're in for a bad time." He slid his hand up to her thigh, just past her knee, and squeezed. He felt the muscles there relax, and heard her let out a breath, her body softening. "There you go."

  *

  When he phrased it like that, it was easy. How many times had she pushed her feelings down, or put them out of her mind in order to focus on the task at hand? And she trusted him. His warm hand on her thigh conveyed the same message as his earlier words. He'd take care of her. She wouldn't get hurt. It was just that suddenly, anything even remotely risky felt that much more so because if something were to happen to her and she couldn't work, her baby would go without. And that was something she was entirely unwilling to subject Mason to. She'd had enough of it growing up, she'd never let it happen to him. But she could still have fun. And, she thought, as Nate clucked to the horse and her long, easy gait started moving forward, this could be fun.

  Before long, she was getting the hang of it, with the occasional pointer or reminder from Nate, who still led the horse.

  "I'm gonna let you go now. But you got this, and Sassy will take care of you either way. Remember your steering and brakes?"

  She nodded, very gently lifting on each rein in turn, the horse's nose tipping in either direction as she requested. Then she sat deep, as he'd instructed her, moved her feet forward a fraction of an inch and picked up the reins, saying "whoa" deep and clear and the horse stopped immediately.

  "You got it, then. Let me see you."

  He stepped backward into the middle of the pen and watched her make a couple of laps around the outside of the ring.

  "Good, Layla. Total natural."

  A happy warmth spread from the middle of her chest at his encouraging words. Hearing him praise her grew her confidence and was almost as pleasurable as a physical touch from him. At the end of the day, a tiny part of her still sought the approval of those she cared about, as much as she'd repeated to herself over the last two years all that mattered was surviving.

  "Not bad for someone who's never done this before, eh?"

  His sound of surprise made her turn her head to find his eyebrows raised and a big, crooked grin covering his face.

  "No way."

  "Not once."

  "Not even pony rides at the fair?"

  She shook her head.

  "Shit. I'd never have known it."

  When they'd started saddling up the horses, she'd had her doubts she'd be able to go on the trail ride he'd started out wanting. But now, with his watchful eye and a horse that was clearly accustomed to taking care of beginners, she thought she might be able to make it happen. She signaled for Sassy to halt and then turned her and crossed the sand to Nate in the middle.

  "I think I'm ready."

  He reached out to touch the mare's nose lightly, his smile mirroring the one she felt all over her face and in her heart.

  "I think you are, too."

  He stepped back and opened the gate to the round pen for her and she carefully steered the mare through, every little thing feeling like a big, silly accomplishment. She watched Nate untie his gelding and mount up—the thing that had seemed the most challenging to her was effortless for a man who had clearly pretty much been born on horseback. He settled into the saddle and gathered up his reins, giving her a nod.

  "All right, we'll head up the back. Just a short ride or else nobody'll be able to walk tomorrow."

  She shot him a look.

  "Trust me on this one. I've been back in the saddle what, a week? I've already used my share of painkillers for that. And you've never been. So you might need me to come take care of you tomorrow."

  "As tempting as that is…you know I have to work tomorrow."

  "Then after work."

  "Did you bring me riding just so you'd have an excuse to spend the evening with me tomorrow, too?"

  Playful guilt was written all over his features. He shrugged, a rueful smile playing over his lips—she couldn't get enough of that, those smile lines around his mouth when he was even a little happy. And she'd been seeing it a lot lately.

  "Maybe." He drew the word out long and slow.

  She tried, but it was impossible to stop the smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth.

  "All right."

  Sassy followed the gelding Nate rode without much prompting from Layla, all the way toward the back of Banks' property. It was beautiful, all green and lush. The spring had seen lots of rain and the summer was still reveling in the glory of it. They cut out the back of a pasture, where a trail extended into the woods beyond the fence line, and Nate dismounted there. He stopped between the horses, reaching out to stroke Sassy's neck, then to touch Layla's knee lightly.

  "How you making out? Good for a bit more?"

  She nodded quickly because she'd hired Kerri for the afternoon, and because stealing a few minutes with him outside of the confines of her home was rare, exciting, and good for her soul. She watched him open the gate and she steered the mare through, then turned and waited for him to close the gate and remount.

  They started out a trail that was dark and green, with a carpet of old pine needles and tall, mature evergreens converging over a path wide enough for them to ride side by side, knees almost touching, without speaking for a while. Though she'd grown up in a town full of them, she'd never really seen the appeal of a cowboy. Not until this one, anyway. He had an easy, quiet way around the horses that seemed to calm them, and it extended to her. She'd barely had a thought about not knowing what she was doing since they left the yard. When it came to the horse and when it came to Nate.

  —TWENTY-TWO—

  Layla shouldn't have been surprised to see her mother push the door of Dr. Fields' office open again later that week, but she still wasn't used to the idea of Rhonda sniffing around. This wasn't exactly fair, though. She was a captive audience; there was nobody to spell her off and she couldn't hide in the bathroom until her mother left. Luckily, there were a few afternoon appointments coming up, so she knew when things got uncomfortable, as they would, she could use that excuse.

  "Mom, what brings you in?"

  "Just visiting," her mother said with a sly smile—the one Layla knew meant she'd been thinking. 'Scheming', her mother had always called it, unapologetically. "I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed my visit with Mason."

  Layla returned her smile, because she wanted to take her mother's word on it, even though she'd fretted almost non-stop for the last 12 hours about Rhonda seeing Nate driving her home from work. "Good, maybe we should try to do it more. A Saturday, next time. You can come for lunch. And bring daddy."

  She hated to give up the rare free Saturday afternoon when she would rather spend it with Nate, but if her mother's mind was working the way she thought it was, that would give her more fodder for suspicion. And she was cautiously doubtful the lunch would even happen.

  "That sounds nice, Lala." Rhonda shifted, her fingers toying with the patient intake pen and clipboard on the desk. Layla resisted the urge to snatch it away from her—fidgeting was a huge pet peeve, and she knew what was coming next. A lifetime in the Sullivan home meant she knew exactly what to look for. "So that Nate Montgomery…he's a nice boy. How long has he been sniffing around?"

  Layla chose her next words carefully. Too much protest would put her mother hot on Nate's trail. Not enough would suggest a lie.

  "He came in to Danny's on one of my shifts a while back. He was a big help with the car down. And I hired him to do a couple of the odd jobs in the house that I haven't been able to get to myself."

  "Isn't that fancy…a hired hand." Rhonda's eyebrows rose.

  Layla almost laughed at the simple cover-up. Of course. Everyone in town knew Nate wasn't rodeoing anymore.

  "Well, he needs work to
do and I need some work done. So he'll be around a bit. No funny business. You know as well as I do…I don't have time for anything like that with the baby." The lies were easy to tell because they were still half-truths. She didn't, technically, have time for funny business with Nate. Oh, but she wanted it. She was beginning to question if he wanted it, though. He'd been close, casually intimate, and didn't hesitate to touch her in thoughtful and kind ways, but he hadn't even attempted to kiss her since their date. And that rubbed more than she cared to admit. She told herself again and again she was just happy to have another friend to add to the count, but as much as she hated herself for it, she wanted more.

  "You know, I probably never said how proud I am of you for taking care of Mason the way he deserves." It was a roller coaster, talking to her mother, but Layla steeled herself for what was next. "And you do a great job, all alone. But wouldn't it be easier if you had some help?"

  She didn't mean an extra body in the house—Layla had that with Kerri and with Nan. Layla knew, from previous conversations, her mother was talking explicitly about financial help. Manipulating social services to get money on top of her wages, or, more likely, pursuing Mason's father; a route she'd assured her mother multiple times during the pregnancy she wouldn't be taking.

  "Of course. Everything's easier with help. But I've got plenty of help, mom. I don't need more than what I've got."

  The self-satisfied look on her mother's face turned Layla's stomach. "You always need more than what you've got. You deserve it."

  Layla clenched her jaw and worked hard to hold her smile, brushing off her mother's words with a motion of her hand. "We don't always get what we deserve. But anyways…Saturday works? I'm off tomorrow, so we could do it then."

  Her countenance cooling significantly, Rhonda straightened and shrugged. "I'll talk to your father."

  She couldn't help but watch the older woman's back with a feeling of foreboding nestled cold in the pit of her stomach.